Back in the house Saturday around 2:15pm, after finish trimming the caulk of a 2nd window. The temperature came down some and there is a breeze. Though earlier in the day, I was sweating drenched and shirtless. I could imagine how the past 2 summers may have been for Angie and her crew working on the house, 12-14 hours a day.
Straddling the ladder working on the highest sill, the sounds of the immediate neighborhood plays in my ear. The cacophony of Cicadas, the motorized sound of a saw, whirring buzz of clippers as Ginger (Angie's spouse) trims Rocky the dog. Perhaps the happiest junk yard dog, a beautiful leaping herding breed, I've come in contact with. A separate story on how she found her future home.
As I continue to strip caulk, the absurdity and irony of our collective Saturday chores and house task did not escape my conscious awareness. When it intrudes, I pause and continuing with my contribution to finishing the home three years post the flood.
Earlier in the morning, Angie and Ginger had gone out grocery shopping for today's party and hurricane supplies. They had just returned when I awoke. We put away the groceries away as Ginger proceeded to nap. This after a brisk exchange when Ginger turns on the television to watch the Weather channel Angie asks for the TV to be turned off, there was no point in getting us more edgy she says.
Through the course of the morning and early afternoon, chicken was cooking, Rocky was getting a bath and I flexed from stripping caulk to helping Angie put gas into the camper, and listening to her plan in the event Gustav hits New Orleans.
Flashlights, generator, bottled water, batteries, extra gas in two 8 gallon tanks where being sequestered, as party supplies and beverages where getting laid out.
The party is slated to start at 4pm. many of guest have called to inform Angie or Ginger of their plan to evacuate. Before I moved in for a respite from the heat, standing near the porch chit chatting, we learned a six o'clock curfew had been imposed in the city. Each of us perhaps silently wondering who will show up. A silver lining, we have more food for those who come and leftovers/provisions in the event we loose electric or gas power.
Inside Angie's house are completely enclosed walls, beautiful Ralph Lauren painted walls, fully running bathroom and kitchen. Much of it completed this summer. Industry, the street where she lives is 2 blocks away from the Florida Avenue canal, in the heart of the 7th ward. When Katrina hit, after the levee broke, a series of canals were to capture over flow and as many know, it did not.
Angie and I as we pass each other, talked about the possibility of my having to be here longer than intended, and joking about extra store of frying oil, the propane stove and all the fish she'll be frying.
Angie already has in mind where we'll end up, the 2nd floor of a church, where she camped out while there was six feet of water on the streets around her neighborhood. The camper is to be stationed on a garage above Walgreens. A camper bought used with the first FEMA grant released. Both cars are filled with gasoline and to be parked on the interstate 20-30 min walk and swim from where we may be.
On occasion I over hear Angie speaking with concerned friends, acknowledging should it flood, she will be disappointed specially all the work that has been put into house. At another time, while we were waiting on the wash, her words to me continues to reverberate "if I have to do it again, I'll be more efficient and will get back into the house sooner."
We are prepping for the party, emergency provisions at the ready, and we intend to continue on.
More to come.
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